If I Fall
by DodgersGirl
Summary: Combine Rory's hidden physical attraction to Tristan with various dinner parties and accidents and you've produced chemistry that Rory finds she can't duplicate with Dean. Trory. Chapter 7 finally posted...
1. on this night

**Disclaimer: I don't own it.**

**Pairings: Trory**

**Rating: PG-13**

**A/N: My second ever fanfic. I'm reposting, because I missed this story, writing it and stuff. Anyway, LITERATI IS STILL MY FAVORITE! Sorry trory girls. ;-) But I hope you enjoy this story, and I'll try and keep up with it this time. **

****

**_PLEASE NOTE: This takes place before the Breakup, Part 2._**

**If I Fall || Chapter 1**

**...on this night...******

*****

Rory Gilmore listened to her History teacher drone on about the Renaissance period. After 20 minutes of avid note-taking on Leonardo DiVinci, she had given in to her wandering mind, and her hand cramp. Absently, she glanced out the window. Her icy blue eyes lit up when she noticed a fresh dusting of snow on the ground. The fat, white flakes were falling piled on top of the fine powder that was already on the ground. A glimmer out of the corner of her eye drew her attention to an icicle hanging from the window edge, melting drops of what appeared to be like a liquid crystal. A rare smile crossed her face in the classroom. An excitement swept through her. She liked snowy winters best, and snow in November was always a good sign for a particularly snowy winter. Unfortunately, the History teacher took this moment to notice her smile, and the fact that her attention was not on the lesson.

"Anything amusing about Mr. DiVinci, Ms. Gilmore?"

"No Ma'am." 

"Well then perhaps you could stop smiling long enough to join the lesson?"

"Yes, sorry."

Rory sighed despondently and picked up her pen. She tried to pay attention, but was immediately distracted once more by a voice directly behind her. 

"Daydreaming about me again, Mary?"

"Rory."

"What have I told you about controlling your secret passions in class?" he asked, his gravelly voice reverberating against the shell of her ear.

"Shut up, Tristan," she whispered.

"Oh, lack of comeback. Suprising."

Rory turned quickly and glared, seeing his irresistible smirk and clear blue eyes which almost mirrored her own. She studied him for a minute, still trying to glare, but found herself staring for a few seconds. She never realized how striking he actually was. Tristan smirked some more, then gave her his sexiest stare. Rory broke the spell, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"I saw that stare." He told her, leaning forward.

"There wasn't a stare, it was a glare. Oh, do they sound too much alike for you to tell them apart?" she asked scathingly.

Tristan just grinned as she spun around, catching the scent of her hair as it followed. 'Intoxicating,' he thought.  He resumed his bored expression, stealing glances at Rory every once in while, whose head was, for the most part, bent over her notebook. For the most part.

***  **

The rest of Rory's Friday passed uneventfully. The snow eventually thinned out and then stopped completely. Rory resented the fact that snow got dirty. In her opinion, something as pure as snow in the winter shouldn't be allowed to be dirtied. 

At the end of the day, she gathered her books and stuffed them in her backpack, then shrugged into her jacket and headed out into the biting winds. As she was leaving, she noticed Tristan talking and joking with his 'friends'. Once again, she rolled her eyes, almost at herself, and at the fact that she was bothering to take any notice. She boarded her bus, headed for Stars Hollow.

*****

Lorelai was walking with Luke outside the diner in a black puffy coat, light blue fleece scarf and matching gloves, and a light blue hat with ears knit on the top. Actually, she wasn't walking with him, she was chasing him with a snowball. Rory grinned as she watched her mother pelt Luke in the back with it.

"Lorelai! C'mon! I have to work in the diner after this. I'll be all wet and cold..." he ranted.

"Generally, that's why you buy heaters, Luke, to keep you warm and dry in the winter. Perhaps you're not familiar with the concept? But after all, you do have one in your diner."

"You know what I mean! Plus, it takes a while to dry off!"

"So change clothes! Heck, change your hat while you're at it! Don't wear a hat, even."

"Lorelai."

"Be daring."

"Lorelai."

"OK, the hat stays."

"Lorelai, shut up and come have some coffee."

"Are you voluntarily offering me coffee?"

"It seems to be the only thing that will stop you from throwing snow at me."

Rory walked up just then. Lorelai turned to Rory and whispered loudly.

"He doesn't know about the special snowball freezer pouch in my jacket pocket. I can take snow inside the diner!"

Luke just rolled his eyes. The two Gilmores followed slowly behind. The magic of snow always brought out something different in the Gilmores. Something better. They giggled and threw snow at each other before heading into the diner for coffee.

*****

Luke headed to brew a fresh pot of coffee for the two. Rory sighed and plopped her backpack down.

"So...tough day?"

"That's the understatement of the century."

"The snow didn't help?"

"Actually, I got caught staring out the window and smiling when the snow started falling, so no, I'd say the snow wasn't aiding me much today."

"But it looks pretty."

"Yeah, until people step in it and drive over it." Rory said contemptuously.

"Why is it that you're suddenly ranting like Luke? Oooh, did you have a Tristan encounter today? Or Paris, maybe?"

"Ummm...no," Rory said, sounding almost uncertain. Her mind wondered and she thought about Tristan's gravelly, sexy voice and tousled blonde hair. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second while Lorelai studied her curiously. Shaking her head, she got rid of the image as best she could. She didn't know why she kept thinking like this. 'Tristan is an asshole,' she told herself. Lorelai was about to say something when Luke came over with two cups of steaming coffee.

"Ahhh, liquid goodness," Lorelai breathed.

"It'll kill you one day."

"Hey buddy, don't voluntarily give me coffee and then tell me it's bad for me...it's against the Coffee Code."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Not even going to ask."

The two Gilmores chatted for about 2 hours, holding steaming cups of coffee and relishing the heat in their hands, before Rory suddenly realized.

"Hey, it's Friday."

"Yeah, so?" Then suddenly, Lorelai realized and dropped her head on the table. "Oh no."

"The Friday-night dinner," the two women moaned simultaneously.

Lorelai threw some money on the table and she and Rory rushed out the door, yelling their goodbyes to Luke on their way out.

*****

"Hey Ror?"

"Up here!"

"You have to wear a dress tonight!"

"Why?"

Rory rushed up the stairs in a flared black skirt and a sweater in a soft pink hue. "So I can't wear this?" she asked, confused.

"Nope. Dress is required. She didn't say why. Knowing Emily Gilmore, it's some sort of social engagement, so be ready with a perma-smile and a knowing nod."

"Mo-om! Why didn't you tell me before?" 

"I forgot, until you just happened to conveniently mention the Friday night dinner. Foolish child."

"Fine." Rory stomped lightly down the stairs, disgruntled.

"You know, you're getting more like Luke every day!" her mother called.

"Am not!" Rory yelled back.

Rory continued to pout as she flicked through her closest. Towards the back, she found a black cap-sleeved dress with a drawstring scoop neck, a scalloped edge, and a sheer maroon overlay. Once she made sure the dress looked presentable, she put on a pair of black heels to match, hastily fastened a silver necklace and matching bracelet, and caught her hair back with rhinestone bobby pins. With one last glance in the mirror, she grabbed her pocketbook and her coat and joined her mother at the door. 

Little did Rory know, just as they were leaving, Tristan DuGrey was straightening his grey tie in front of his own mirror, smirking lazily. 'Another stupid cocktail party,' he thought to himself. If he cared enough to wonder, he would have realized that the hosts' last name was Gilmore. But he didn't.

Back in Stars Hollow, the two Gilmores closed their door shut behind them, captivated by the weather. As they walked outside, Rory caught a snowflake on her glove out of the falling flurries. She quickly studied the lacy, delicate pattern before the snowflake disappeared from her finger, melting into the air.

*****


	2. you save me

**Disclaimer: Same as always**

**Paring: trory (and no, guys, you HAVE NOT converted me. Literati is still my favorite...sorry :-D)**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Author's Notes: Thanks for all the feedback I got on the first chapter! I really appreciate it. Anyway, next chapter is here, obviously. I hope you all enjoy it. **

**If I Fall || Chapter 2**

**...you save me...**

*

Rory was captivated by the snow the entire ride to Hartford, as was the elder Gilmore. It was magic, as far as they were concerned. Like iridescent pixie dust. Unfortunately, this fascination resulted in the occasional swerve or sudden jolt from the driver. 

"MOM! Watch where you're going! You almost hit a squirrel!"

"No loss there. Everyone knows chipmunks are better anyway."

"How can you hit anything furry without shame? They're so cute, and fluffy...and...furry."

Their banter was deadened when they reached the Gilmore household. The soft yellow light spilled out the window and onto the snow, casting a halo of light around the house. Smoke was rising in a grey haze from the chimney top, and there was a generally warm appearance to the house. 

"Doesn't it look pretty?" Rory asked.

"Well, we all know that looks can be deceiving."

"But the snow just makes it look better."

"Hey there kid, why the sudden cheerfulness? You have just returned from Hell #1, and now we're at Hell #2. A cocktail party at Emily Gilmore's house? What could be worse? C'mon, show me the frowns."

"The snow cheered me up."

"But now I can't have a grumpy partner."

"But I can have my perma-grin ready."

"Point taken." Lorelai sighed, and the two stepped up the door. It was immediately opened by Emily herself, wearing a wide, almost smug smile. The two just stood on the step, peering inside the house. The place was packed with people, all the men wearing suits or shirts and ties, and most of the women in dresses. Some were laughing and chatting, others were gliding along the marble floors, dancing to live music. Food was spread on a long table, and some were also gathered there. By the volume of noise, anyone could tell there was at least 100 people. The light in the room for dancing was dim, casting soft shadows over everything. Candles flickered and danced inside crystal on the tables. The room looked beautiful. But there were too many people in it for either Gilmore's liking. Lorelai resisted the urge to flinch, and Rory just stood, her smile faded just a little. 

"Well, come in! We don't want to let the cold in." Emily scolded, still smiling, the smugness now definitely etched on her face.

Lorelai sighed and tried to hold back any comments. She couldn't, however, help but ask the obvious.

"Mom? What IS this?"

"Well, Richard and I have been planning this party for our friends for quite some time now. We knew that it would be a good opportunity for both you and Rory to meet some nice young men, and-"

"MOM! But...you didn't tell us this! Some notice would have been nice. And I don't need a nice young man. Rory, on the other hand..." Lorelai babbled. The last comment earned her a hard glare from Rory, and she immediately wished to suck the entire last statement back into her mouth.

"What happened to Dean?" the eldest Gilmore asked, sounded very surprised. Rory suppressed a sigh.

"We broke up Grandma. But don't worry, it's no big deal, really," Rory said with a reassuring smile, which felt fake and oddly stretched across her face. But only her mother noticed. 

"Mom, I don't think this is a good idea." 

"Don't be ridiculous Lorelai, this will be great for you and Rory. Go on, have a drink. Mingle." 

And with that, Emily Gilmore walked away, leaving the two Gilmores just inside the foyer. Absently, both took off their coats and handed them to the waiting maid. They looked at each other for a minute with helpless expressions.

*

"Sorry, hon."

"Mom, it's fine. There's not much we can do about it anyway."

"I'll make it up to you. How about we go to Luke's, get some pie, and raid Doose's for junk food when we get back? Then we have movie night?" 

"That's not making it up to me. That's satisfying your junk food need."

"As long as you get some too?"

"Deal...as long as I pick the movies."

"Ugh. Momento AGAIN?"

"You never know. I might be nice to you this time."

"Doubtful."

"C'mon mom, let's go...mingle."

The two grinned in unison and walked off. 

"Hey mom, I'm going to go get some food."

"Of course. Where's there's food, there's Rory. Wait...wait...you can't! Don't leave me here."

"This is revenge for the Dean comment."

"C'mon, I thought we were even! Besides, you're hardly the revengeful type," Lorelai cried, panicking.

"Sorry. I'm starving." Rory laughed a little as she walked away.

Rory headed over to the food table. Though she wore skirts all the time, she felt oddly out of place in the dress she was wearing. She was probably one of the only people here her age, so maybe it wasn't just the dress. Her eyes skimmed hungrily over the options. She elected to have somewhat of a large portion of cheese and crackers. She looked back at the place where her mother had been standing, but there were so many people milling around, her mother had gotten lost in the crowd.

Rory ate a piece of brie on a wheat cracker and watched a couple in their late teens or early twenties embrace, dancing close together as they glided across the marble floor. Her eyes held a certain wistfulness, and a longing for someone to dance wtith. Actually, she noted, the majority of the people at this party were dancing. She suddenly wished Dean was there, but shook the thought from her head. Then her mind wandered for a second, and she remembered Tristan. Quickly, that thought was erased also. Little did she know, Tristan was only a few feet away.

*

Tristan stood, leaning lazily against a pillar. He straightened and re-straightened his tie, looking bored. His charm used on all adults had faded, and he looked as if someone should hand him a pillow because he was about to fall asleep standing up. His eyes flicked over the crowd. He noticed the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the dancing couples, the food table. Suddenly, someone clapped him on the shoulder.

"Tristan!"

"Hey Scott." He grinned. Scott's parents were friends of his, and Scott and Tristan saw each other from time to time at the occasional party. "Haven't seen you in a while. Some party, huh?" he asked sarcastically, donning his smirk.

"Well, yeah, it was looking pretty dull. Until I saw this chick. Actually, it was that one." Scott told him, pointing to a girl in a maroon-black dress and long dark hair. Her back was turned. Tristan gasped, but then shook his head. It wasn't. Was it? He tried to look unfazed. He looked her over, and decided. No. She wouldn't wear a dress that short. Would she? He looked at her from head to toe, but couldn't decide if it was or wasn't. But he had glanced at the back of her head enough times to know, and then he realized that is was. He gasped inwardly. Trying to maintain a smirk, he checked her out again for effect.

"Not bad. Pretty nice."

"Damn," Scott commented, staring. Tristan just looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, Rory turned. Tristan had to constantly remind himself not to let his jaw drop.  She was wearing some scoopneck, short dress, her hair down and shiny, with a halo of light surrounding her from the candles on the table and the dimmed chandelier overhead.  'She looks gorgeous,' he thought to himself. With a dull ache in his heart, one that can only come from loneliness, he turned back towards his friend, trying to appear neutral. Then he sighed softly, wishing for a brief second. He shook his head. Scott didn't notice.

"I think I'm gonna go talk to her," Scott told Tristan. "Nothing else to do around here."  Tristan suddenly felt the urge to grab him and hold him away from her, but he obviously refrained.

"Good luck, man. Just don't do anything stupid."

Scott just echo-smirked as he walked away, disregarding Tristan's warning to him. "Like I need it?"

"You know, I think you might."

Scott shook his head and walked towards Rory. Tristan turned and disappeared until the crowd. He couldn't watch.

*

Rory looked up when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She had been momentarily mesmerized by the dancers once more. She spun, expecting to see her mom. Instead, she saw a cute guy she didn't recognize. He had dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and a full build. 'Not as cute as Tristan,' she thought. Seconds later, she questioned herself for thinking about Tristan. AGAIN. She didn't know what was going on with her. She ignored her thoughts.

"Hi." 

"Hey," Scott replied, looking her up and down. "I'm Scott." 

"Nice to meet you. Rory," she said, trying to ignore the stare. She held out her hand. Brad grabbed her around the waist instead and pressed himself directly onto her. Rory tried to wiggle away, but he tightened his grip. 

"Wanna dance?"

"Not...really..." she choked out as she dragged her onto the dance floor. He ignored her. Pressing himself closer, he placed his hand as low as it could be without being indecent. She tried to wiggle away, but once again, his hold proved stronger than she realized. She was caught. A sick feeling settled like lead in her stomach.

*

Tristan knew he shouldn't, but he glanced towards the dance floor. Atop the marble floors stood Scott and Rory. He felt hurt that she would dance with him, but when he looked closer, he realized Rory was struggling to get away, but couldn't. He watched as Scott took her off the dance floor, gripping her waist tighter with each step. He knew it wasn't his business, but Scott was a total asshole who didn't know anything about her. He didn't know why he didn't stop him in the first place. 

He followed them through another room and watched them walk onto the balcony. Scott shut the door, but Tristan rushed over. As he was turning the knob he glanced at the shimmering stars in the sky, and listened to a scuffling noise. Finally, he clicked the knob and the door swung open...Rory wouldn't get hurt. Not while he was here. Only he had the right to look her up and down. Only he had the right to leer. Only he had the right to call her Mary. Only he could treat her like that, because between them, it was a joke. But Scott? He wasn't joking. 

He walked out onto the balcony. The crickets were chirping in the distance, a comforting hum in the background. There was silence, otherwise. He turned, and was stunned by what he saw.

*

_TBC_

**A/N: Sorry to leave you hanging! But the next chapter is coming. Now press the purple button. I'll be forever grateful. I'll smile for ya. Seeà :-) ...Come on, I KNOW you wanna. **


	3. holding me tight

** Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nil. You get the point.**

**Rating: PG-13   **

**Pairing: trory**

**A/N: Chapter 3...here it is. Thanks for the feedback, for those of you who have given me feedback. And for those of you who haven't? The purple button is calling your name ;-) Anyway, I hope you enjoy.**

**If I Fall || Chapter 3**

**  holding me tight...**

*

Rory had tried and tried to wriggle her way out of Scott's grip, but before she could do anything, he was dragging her out onto the balcony.

"What is your problem?" she asked him, annoyed and extremely angry.

Scott leered at her. "You haven't kissed me yet. Why not?" he asked, smirking lazily.

"We just met," she told him, exasperated and disgusted.

Scott then grabbed her and kissed her, pressing himself hard against her, his hands immediately wandering places they shouldn't have. Rory reeled back and shoved her knee into his groin. He pulled away, groaning and red-faced.

"What's your problem, bitch?" he choked out through waves of pain. 

It took Rory all of two seconds to react to that comment. She punched him directly in the nose. He fell backwards, fainting onto the hard concrete of the balcony. Rory sighed and looked at him, disgusted. At least her mother's self-defense lesson from when she was 10 had been put to some use. She edged away and leaned over the other side of the balcony, wondering vaguely if he was drunk. The stars winked at her, the wind softly applauding her as it blew through the trees. She was just about to go back inside when Tristan opened the balcony door.

*

When Tristan stepped out onto the balcony, among night whispers and cool breezes, the last thing he expected to see was Scott lying flat on his back. He stared at his friend's powerful form, sprawled lifeless on the concrete. Rory heard the door open and glanced over absently, then did an immediate double take. Her face registered confusion, but not disappointment.

"Tristan? What are you doing here?"

"Well, Mary, looks like you've got quite the arm."

"He was a jerk."

"I came to rescue you, but knight-in-shining-armor isn't exactly part of the image. Besides, you're doing OK on your own."

Rory glanced at him, taking in his smirk, halo of blonde hair, and lean, strong build. She repressed the sudden urge to step closer to him, breathe him in, and take his scent wherever she went. This quick once-over didn't go unnoticed by Tristan. He inwardly smiled as his face leered.

"I always knew you were attracted to me, Mary, but that look just proved it all."

"What look? The patented scathing look? Or the confused?"

"I believe it was the I-want-to-throw-you-on-your-back-and-make-mad-love to you look."

"I'm sorry, are you blind? Or was it just wishful thinking?"

"I know it's your secret desire to make love to me on your Grandmother's balcony."

"It's my secret desire to throw you off the balcony," she retorted.

"Tell you what. I'll refrain from stating the obvious if you dance with me."

"What?" Rory looked at Tristan as if he was completely crazy. But then she decided to give in to her impulses for once. She was tired of resisting.

"You heard me."

"Fine."

"Fine? I know I'm hot, but fine? What a compliment."

Rory rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, sending tiny shivers like butterfly kisses up both of their arms. They headed through the door, awkwardly maneuvering themselves so no unnecessary touching was involved. Tristan didn't want to feed the fire, and Rory didn't want to find out that she was actually attracted to Tristan. She blamed her shivers on the biting winds that snapped at their heels as they headed towards the golden glow of the Gilmore house. 

"Let's go, before I change my mind, Romeo."

"So, Juliet, how's it going?"

"Nah. I'll be the Nurse instead."

He led her onto the dance floor. Uncertainly, she placed one hand on his shoulder. He guided their bodies closer together gently, his hand resting on her waist, knowing this was novel to her. Rory took a shaky breath and willed her face not to go red. She couldn't look him in the eye, and found herself staring at his broad chest instead. This whole crazy thing had something to do with the snow. It had to be. They laced hands, shooting hot-white electricity smoldering through their veins. Rory glanced into his blue eyes uncertainly. Tristan began to waltz with a grace and ability that surprised and impressed Rory. Unfortunately, Rory was not so skilled. Tristan counted to her under his breath.

"1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3"

Under Tristan's watchful, glittering eyes, she managed not to step on his feet anymore. Soon, they were whirling and gliding across marble with ease. Some couples even stopped dancing themselves to watch the two. Emily observed for a minute, smiling smugly. Lorelai came back from the food table, and watched her daughter's smile, grinning. She'd never seen the boy before. She wondered who he was. He was cute.

In a haze, Rory giggled and laughed as the two continued to dance, ignoring the only slightly nagging weariness in their feet. She felt the heat of his skin through his clothing, saw him smile, and let herself slip away from the ordinary world. 'This is just to forget Dean,' Rory told herself. 'I'm not attracted to him. Not at all. OK, not that much.'  

Tristan tried his best not to stare. Her ocean eyes held laughter and childish innocence, and her nose was slightly crinkled as she smiled. He followed the twisting curve of her mouth, and graceful cheekbones, the shining hair. She didn't notice him staring. She was wrapped up in her own little world. Until, that is, she looked up.

Rory met Tristan's eye in the dancing candlelight. Just for a second, she felt a tiny shiver run down her spine, between her legs, down her calves to her toes. They never stopped dancing. Tristan couldn't ignore the weakness present on her face, or in his body. Girls didn't make him weak. But she was different. Something beautiful. They ceased to move and stood atop the marble, still as the night air outside. Breaking the still, Tristan swallowed hard, and spoke.

"Not bad Mary. You actually managed to step on my feet a total of only 5 times."

"3, thank you," Rory quipped weakly.

"My toes tell me otherwise," he said, smiling almost affectionately. But Rory didn't notice that tone in his smile. It looked the same as always. Perhaps it was because it had always been there. Nothing's changed, she said to herself. It didn't mean anything. But one last look into his eyes after she thanked him for the dance told her something different. She drifted away from him in the crowd, but neither gaze broke until Rory backed directly into someone else.

*

"Watch where you're going young lady, you could hurt someone. So, who's the hunk?"

"Hey, mom."

"If you don't tell me I'll be forced to steal him from you and lock him in my room and tie him to the bed and-"

"OK, just ate some cheese and crackers a little while ago. I don't think brownish liquid looks too attractive with a black dress, but you could continue and we could experiment."

"I don't go for the puke look. I guess you'll just have to tell me who he is instead. Spill, please. And I don't mean your dinner."

"That's Tristan," Rory admitted

"THE Tristan?"

"The one and only."

"Why didn't you tell me he should be a model?"

"Because he's not THAT great."

Lorelai looked at Rory in disbelief.

"Are you kidding? Or just blind? Maybe it's lack of caffeine. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten our plan. Luke's is our first stop. Anyway, you guys looked kind of good together," Lorelai finished, in a rare moment of sincerity.

Rory looked at her mother incredulously. 

"Do you like your life?"

"OK, OK, not good together. But I saw the smile."

"There was no smile."

"Right, right..."

"I was being polite."

"Uh huh. Hey, I saw you guys on the balcony...what was going on out there? Huh?" Lorelai wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and smirked. 

"You don't want to know. Too long of a story." Rory replied, grimacing at the very recent memory.

"Tell me in the car."

Rory grinned. "Does that mean we're leaving?"

"Well everyone knows after you've stayed for at least a half hour, it's perfectly acceptable to leave at any time."

"Gilmore Book of Etiquette, page 3." Rory deadpanned, playing along.

As the two Gilmore grabbed their coats from the closet, Rory glanced back one last time. Tristan was watching her. She waved goodbye to him and mouthed "Thanks for the dance."  "Anytime, Mary," was the reply, followed by a rare, sincere smile. Luckily, this entire exchange went unnoticed by Lorelai, because had she noticed, there would have been an endless array of questions the entire car ride home, followed by an in-depth analysis of every word and feeling. Unluckily, though, another Gilmore did notice, and there was no doubt that questions of Rory and Tristan would come up again. 

But for now, the Gilmores pushed that issue aside as Lorelai and Rory stepped out into the cold once more, crunching over crystal white powder as they talked about Scott, Luke, and whether or not to rent Memento. AGAIN. Snowflakes fell softly around them, gently fluttering on their cheeks as they walked. Tristan, meanwhile, was held hostage in the Gilmore house, with only the image of the want in her eyes to keep him company until this whole thing was over. He leaned against the pillar and smiled a smile that came before someone tapped him on his shoulder, interrupting.

*


	4. i remember

**Disclaimer: It's not my stuff**

**Pairing: trory**

**Rating: PG-13**

**A/N: Thanks...for the feedback. It's my customary procedure to thank you all first. :-) Anyway, although I AM A LITERATI, I think I may actually finish this story for once. Here's the next chapter...enjoy. With school, and all, I might have a few problems updating frequently, but I'll definitely update on the weekends. **

**If I Fall || Chapter 4**

**...i remember...**

*

A green Jeep parked on the edge of the curb with a piercing screech of tires. Rory was enjoying the fragrance of burning wood in the air while they quickly walked into Doose's. Her mother was babbling about Scott once more (she still couldn't believe the story), and some about Tristan, but Rory was too busy turning her head in every direction, gazing out into the inky, chilly, winter night. Thinking about the dance, that chill, and his nearly boyish smile at the end. She nearly ran into the Doose's door.

"Hey, kid, I want no damaged brain cells. Watch the glass."

Lorelai looked at her, amused and held the door open. 

"All right, I'm thinking s'mores tonight."

"Over the stove?" Rory asked, grinning at the prospect.

"Of course! The only real way to roast a marshmallow properly. Besides, what else will we use the stove for?"

"We could cook a Pop-Tart in a pan."

"Eww. Gross. Why?"

"I don't know. Science experiment?"

"I'll get the marshmallows, you get the graham crackers. And don't forget to pick up popcorn, too."

"Graham crackers, popcorn, got it."

Rory headed off in the direction of the cookie/cracker aisle. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Dean standing there. She walked directly into him. A loud crash echoed through the store as the 10 boxes of cookies on the cart beside him knocked to the ground. She bent down to pick them up and found herself face to face with her ex-boyfriend. The memory of the breakup was still fresh in her mind. 

"D-Dean." Rory sputtered.

"Rory." He responded just as curtly. Despite that fact that he was the one broke it off, he was obviously upset by it. He just stared at her. Rory shuffled her feet, looking down at the tiles on the floor.

"So," she ventured uncomfortably. "How are you?"

"Fine. You?"

"Good. Me and mom are going to roast marshmallows over the stove." Rory's girlish grin eased the tension, and Dean smiled his own small smile, though it seemed deadened. As Rory reached for the graham crackers, Dean started walking away.

"Well, have fun. At least your stove will get some use. See ya around."

"Thanks. See ya."

Rory smiled a little, glad that they could at least be civil towards each other. But her smile faded when she remembered. Ignoring her thoughts, she picked up some popcorn in the next aisle and met her mom at the check out.

"I saw the Dean encounter," Lorelai whispered as she paid for the groceries. 

"Yeah. It was OK though." 

"So, no physical fighting? No exciting verbal sparring match?"

"No."

"Boring."

"Mom."

"Sorry. Just thought with the entire Scott drama tonight you might have a dramatic ending to tonight. Video store is our next stop, by the way."

"What if we rent a dramatic movie? Does that count?"

"Memento, here we come."

*

Surrounded by the empty marshmallow bag, wrappers of chocolate, 3 popcorn bags, and various cups filled with milk, water, and soda, the two Gilmores sat on the couch, groaning. 

"I think my stomach is going to explode."

"I think Memento is getting old. Hey...that rhymed." Rory just shook her head and ignored her mother's last comment, arguing her case instead.

"C'mon, you cried! It's a good movie!"

"I'm sorry, you must be mistaken. Those tears are the result of the gigantic pain in my stomach."

"Well, it's your own fault you ate ¾ of the marshmallows."

"It was definitely ½."

"Yeah, ½ of twice the amount of marshmallows that were actually in the bag."

"Ok...new subject."

"Hah! So you admit it."

Lorelai ignored this and looked at her daughter with a glint in her blue eyes, one that only appeared when she was dying to know something.

"What's with you and Tristan?"

Rory laughed almost hollowly. "Tristan?"

"Yeah, Evil Boy? Hottie Man?"

"Nothing. It was a dance. End of story."

"But he came to save you from Scott and everything! He was looking at you like you were a giant cup of coffee."

"Not everyone shares the love."

"Ok, a chocolate bar, then."

"Better. But isn't chocolate kind of a girl thing?"

"You're avoiding my question. Stop trying to fool me."

"You're easily fooled."

"Hey!"

"See? Sidetracked already," Rory smirked.

"Well...you better tell me if something's going on. Or I'll be forced to sneak in your room and read your diary. Do you have a diary?" Lorelai shook her head slightly. 

"There's nothing. Trust me on that one."

Lorelai shook her head in disbelief, but decided to let the issue rest. For now.

"All right, Lover Girl. I'm going to bed."

"G'Night."

The two Gilmores headed off to bed. Rory climbed between the sheets, trying not to think about the dance. But her attempts were unsuccessful, and she couldn't help but wonder if her mother had a point as she drifted off to sleep. 'Nahh,' she thought. 

*

The next morning, the sun streamed in through Rory's curtains, directly onto her face, casting an orange morning glow over the room. However, the sun wasn't what awakened her at 10:00 in the morning. It was their telephone. Groggily, Rory rolled over, put her pillow over her head, and tried her best to ignore the ringing, but it continued incessantly. Finally, she gave up. She swung her legs over the side of her bed and raced to the telephone in the hallway.

"Hello?" she asked, her voice scratchy and husky with sleep.

"Rory? Is that you?" came the reply. It was Emily. 

"Grandma? What's the matter?" she asked, still in her pre-awakened state.

"Nothing at all. Did I wake you?"

"Well..."

"Still sleeping at 10? Hardly acceptable."

"Well, we kind of had a late night."

"Actually, that's what I'm calling to talk about. Last night. I saw you with that boy. The Dugrey boy."

"Grandma, it was just a dance."

"I'm sure," Emily replied smugly. "As I was saying, I saw you two together, and we're such good friends with the Dugreys, so when they asked us to attend their own party next Friday, I told them you and your mother would join us."

Rory's face fell. Despite the hour of the morning, she was definitely able to comprehend. Two cocktail party-Fridays in a row? Sighing despondently, she tried to mask her irritation.

"Well, Grandma, I'll let Mom know."

"Thank you, Rory."

"No problem. Bye."

"Good-bye."

Rory dropped the phone onto it's cradle. Or, she tried. But the phone missed the cradle and slammed against the desk on it's way down to the floor. Two loud crashes echoed in the hallway. Rory winced as she heard her mother stumbling down the hall upstairs.

"Rory? What....heard....ringing....crashes...tell me?" she mumbled as she tripped her way down the stairs, her eyes heavily weighed down with dreams of sleep. When she didn't hear an explanation from Rory, she plowed on to the one coherent thought she could piece together at this hour on a Saturday morning.

"I need coffee."

Rory snorted. "Yes, you do. You're definitely going to need coffee after this one. Let's go to Luke's."

Lorelai nodded slowly an turned and plodded back up the stairs. Her hair was tousled and messy, her eyes nearly shut. Rory heard her stumbling upstairs as she tried to find decent clothes to wear when she walked towards the bathroom, probably to impress Luke, and then Rory heard a loud crash. She shook her head and grinned a little, and then turned on the shower.

*

 "_Another one?" Lorelai whined. _

"Well, at least we've been forewarned this time."

"You're just happy because Hottie Man will be there," she teased.

"Am not," came the childish retort, accompanied by a pout.

"Rory and Hottie Man sitting in a tree..."

*

The entire weekend was filled with conversations about Tristan. Actually, it was Lorelai prodding about him, and Rory refusing to admit she liked him at all. But the more she thought about the dance, and the more his name came up, the more she started to question where she actually stood. It didn't help that when she went back to school on Monday, he was being seductive as usual.

It was an icy November morning, the kind where everything seems frosted and blue. Rory's breath rose in clouds as she stepped off of the bus, and she carefully walked along so she wouldn't slip. Unfortunately, you can never be too careful, and Rory wasn't paying attention as she climbed the steps to Chilton, both hands on her coffee. She felt her stomach rise as she slipped off the step and  fell backwards. Luckily, someone was there to catch her. A pair of muscular arms shot out to grab her. Rory felt the initial relief, and then the familiar arms and hands around her waist caused a chill. She turned her body around and found herself face to face with...

"Well, Mary. Nice running into you again." An irresistibly seductive smirk played on his features as he whispered huskily in her ear. "And it looks like we'll be doing more of it. I'll see you Friday." His hands slowly slipped away from her waist, his fingers lingering for just a second. Rory was left, weak and speechless once more as he headed down the hall. Frustrated, she shook her head and went to her locker, preparing for another ordinary day.

*

**A/N: I know, not a lot of Trory, but it's coming along, I think. Thanks for reading :)**


	5. you with me

**Disclaimer: I don't own it.**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Pairing: Trory**

**Chapter 5 || If I Fall**

**you with me...**

*

Rory stared at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her dress. She was nervous...no, wait...she was terrified. It was bad enough that Tristan would be there, and not only did she have to endure his smartass comments, but she also had to stand near him and show no signs of blushing or breathing trouble, which was becoming more and more of a problem. But it was worse that this was a cocktail part at the Dugrey's. 

Sighing, she smoothed down her dress. It was a wispy material, layer after layer of a light, iridescent forget-me-not blue that fell just above her knees. It was v-neck, with the short sleeves split and fluttering every time she moved. She was wearing her mother's silver sandals to match, and her hair was thick and wavy. She hoped somewhere in the back of her mind that Tristan would think she looked good. But she brushed that thought away and told herself it didn't matter.

With a sense of deja-vu, Rory put on her coat and grabbed her pocketbook, meeting her mother at the door. There was an unusual silence between them, broken only by an anxious sigh, or in Lorelai's case, an annoyed. The night was clear and cold. The stars smiled down upon the two Gilmores as they climbed into their car, the wind biting their backs. There was a light blanket of snow still on the ground, but no new snow was falling this time. Lorelai pulled out the directions she had been given, and the two headed off into the night.

*  

About an hour later, the Jeep pulled up in front of one of the more mammoth buildings either Gilmore had even seen. 

"Wow...someone's sure bringing home the bacon in this house," Lorelai mumbled.

Rory was silent and awed. Her eyes swept over the windows, the pillars, the gardens lightly dusted with snow as they got out of the car that was parked among various Mercedes and BMW's. 

"All right, let's go and get this over with. You can have your dance with Hottie Man, and then we'll scoot."

"Mom!" Rory exclaimed, clearly annoyed. "For the last time, his name is not-"

"I'm sorry, have you not seen the boy? I'm pretty sure that's his name. I mean, if I was your age, I would-"

"Once again, scary thoughts."

"Ok, Ok. Just make sure you get some so I can live vicariously through you."

Rory just looked at her mother incredulously, and tried to ignore the butterflies that were now present in her stomach at the thought of Tristan being inside. As they walked to the door, she absently touched her hair to make sure it was holding. Lorelai smirked.

"Don't worry, he'll pass out when he sees you. If you don't pass out first."

And before Rory could respond to that, the door was yanked open, and a stout, cold-looking butler with an upturned nose ushered them inside.

"And you are?"

"The Gilmores."

"I'm sorry, they were already here."

Lorelai rolled her eyes.

"No sir, we're their daughter and granddaughter. We were also invited to this fine little establishment?"

His eyes scanned a list placed on the hall table. He saw that there were, indeed, four people in the Gilmore party. He frowned.

The butler looked at them sourly before taking their coats. "The drinks are served in the room to the right of here, dancing in the ballroom, and dinner will be served in the dining hall. Will there be anything else?" He asked coldly, clearly annoyed.

"Yes, umm, we'd like a map? We might get lost." Lorelai piped up.

Rory nudged her and tried not to laugh. "No sir. That will be all." Rory told the butler, and broke out into a giggle as he walked away.

"Well, if we get lost, we always have the cell in your purse. We'll call Luke to come help us escape."

"Luke's busy at the diner, Mom."

"Well, I hope you have enough rations for the both of us then."

"In this purse? I could only carry a few candy bars and maybe a thermos of coffee, a Danish if we were lucky. You know that's only enough for five minutes. We'd starve for sure."

Lorelai pursed her lips in mock-disappointment. "Have I taught you nothing? Always carry rations. It's necessary to keep the sugar and caffeine level up."

The two walked into what they assumed was the ballroom and were swallowed by the crowd. There were couples dancing and spinning as there had been just a week ago at the Gilmore household, except now it seemed like there were even more people. A live band was playing, complete with it's own string section. It seemed as if every person in the room was holding a drink.

The room itself was actually beautiful. It was marble-floored, gleaming with reflections. Many paintings adorned the walls, and there was a large fountain in the corner, bubbling quietly, illuminating the room with dancing shadows.  Every thing seemed to be shaded in white or gold. All the furniture was a deep mahogany. 

The crowd was swimming with dresses and suits, and those who weren't dancing were talking smugly to one another, trying to prove how much more money one had than the other. Lorelai scanned the crowd for a few minutes, then tugged on Rory's arm, grinning.

"Target spotted." Lorelai pointed out Tristan on the other side of the room. Rory tried not to catch her breath. His was hair tousled and messy as usual, his eyes dancing as he watched one of his friends dance around him, mocking a waltz. His face was frowning, but it was clear that he was trying not the smile. His suit outlined his powerful frame, his broad shoulders. Rory tried to appear unfazed and turned towards her mother.  

"I'll just wait until he sees me."

"Well, actually, I think he just did. See you later. And when I see you, you better have some juicy stories to spill! Understand?"

"But mom!" Rory called. It was too late. Her mother had already walked away. And Tristan was edging his way through the crowd. Rory prepared herself and ordered her breathing to be normal. As he got closer, however, she knew it was a lost cause.

*

"Wait, wait, man. Let me get this straight. You saved her, you danced with her, and now all of a sudden you're in love?"

"No. I'm not in love with her."

"Please, DuGrey. You spotted her the moment you walked in. You suddenly love watching people waltz. What the hell is that?"

His friend began to dance around him in circles, off-beat, and with a ridiculous grin on his face. Tristan pushed him lightly, trying to convey that he could care less about Rory and the dress she was wearing, or dancing with her, or being with her.  It didn't work, and a smirk played across his friend's features. Tristan could almost hear the comments now. 

"Shut up, asshole."

"Face it, DuGrey. You're whipped."

Tristan rolled his eyes as his friend was caught by the arm by another girl. He was not whipped. But, now alone in the crowd, he sought Rory out again. He took in the blue dress she was wearing, the one that was accentuating her eyes. Her hair was thick and cascading, and she looked delicate and small. An offbeat pixie. But beautiful. Then he saw her mother next to her smirk, and turn to leave. Rory pursed her lips and then turned, scanning the crowd.

Tristan started walking towards her, a waltz playing in his mind. As he reached her, her eyes met his. He licked his lips unconsciously, his mouth dry. He swallowed hard as he reached her, getting ready to put up his usual façade.

*

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Mary."

"If it isn't Tristan. Clearly your brain has grown so small that you can't even remember a person's name." she teased.

"You're looking good." Rory didn't realize the truth to his words.

"And you're looking...arrogant." Rory trailed off, biting her lip to keep from saying how she really thought he looked. The crowd was tight, and she couldn't help but think that he was inches away from his body. Her blood pounded through her.   

Tristan mock pouted. "It has to be like that, huh? I'm so deeply wounded." 

"Oh, so sorry. What can I do to make it better?" she asked sarcastically. Then Tristan raised an eyebrow, and Rory realized too late what she had just said. But her thoughts froze as he dipped close to her, snaking his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. He leaned in and his lips touched her ear, showering Rory with chills. A heat swept through her body, and her eyes involuntarily closed as she felt his breath in her ear. 

"I think you know, Mary," he whispered, and then he pulled away, inwardly wondering if he had gone too far. He turned to smirk at her, and was shocked to see a weakness clear on her face. She quickly recovered.

"And I think you know it's all in your dreams, DuGrey," she smiled sweetly at him. But even as Rory said this, she knew she was losing control. 

"Well, since I know the fantasy of dancing with me has been in your dreams..." Tristan left the sentence open-ended and dragged her onto the dance floor. She didn't refuse. She couldn't. His arm was familiar around her waist, and every finger felt burned to her skin. The two of them swallowed in tandem, and as they began to move in a slow waltz, she hesitantly pressed up closer to him, feeling his firm lined frame under her torso.   

Tristan looked down at her in surprise when he felt her move closer. He squashed the hope that was rising, however. It was probably nothing. He tried to breathe normally, but it was hard. His heart was pounding as he took in her scent, the waves cascading down her back, her lashes fluttering, long and black, against her face. Her cheeks were tinged a warm pink, and it took all his self-control not to force his lips against hers. He bit his lip.

Rory watched him from under the fringe of her eyelashes. She watched him bite his slightly-swollen lip and she felt weak all over again. She didn't know why she was feeling this way, but she couldn't blame it on the snow this time. 

As they took a quick turn, however, they backed into another man, who had been holding a glass of wine in his left hand. The man's hand jolted, sending the contents of the glass over on the couple. Suddenly, the moment was interrupted. Rory felt cold seeping through her dress, and craned her neck to examine her back. She groaned when she saw a deep purple stain spread on the back of her dress. The man they had bumped into gasped and apologized.

"I'm so sorry miss."

Rory smiled wearily. "It's fine, sir."

Tristan simply watched this entire exchange. As the man turned and left to get some napkins, he looked at Rory. She sighed.

"That's not going to come out if you don't try right now," he remarked.

"No, really? And all this time I thought you were stupid enough not to realize!" Her tone was tinged with bitter sarcasm. 

Tristan looked at her. "Come upstairs. We'll try and get the stain out of the dress and you can borrow something of mine while we try and wash it out." 

"All right, I guess." Then something dawned on her. "Tristan, I can't wear your clothes, this is a cocktail party! My Grandma would kill me." That wasn't exactly what was bothering her. It was being in the same room with Tristan alone that caused her to worry. His bedroom, to be exact.

"Or, you can always go without clothes, if you prefer," he remarked, leering.

She just glared. "Yeah, and I'm sure that would go over well."

"It would with me," he replied huskily.

Rory just rolled her eyes and followed him out of the room and into various others. As Tristan lead her up the stairs, she tried not to think about what could happen while. She scolded herself. Nothing would happen. At least, she didn't think so.

*

**A/N: I know three things: a) I take a while for the chapters, b) The writing wasn't so great for this chapter and c) you love me so you'll review anyhow...lol...actually, I don't know that...but I can hope ;) Thank you for supporting my story.**


	6. making it right

**Disclaimer: I don't own this...so sad, isn't it? ;)**

**Pairing/Rating: Trory, PG-13**

**A/N: And drumroll please...here's the next chapter. *Sighs* I have way too much homework. Otherwise, this would've been updated a hell of a lot sooner. I'm really sorry. Thanks for your continued support through it all.**

**If I Fall || Chapter 6**

**...making it right...**

*

Rory glanced at Tristan nervously for the umpteenth time in the past 5 minutes. She could finally _admit to herself that she was attracted to him. But then that brought up the constant reminder not to do anything. Tristan led her down various hallways that were ornamented with various statues and paintings and upholstered with thick, Oriental carpeting. Finally he made a turn and stopped in his room._

Rory's eyes roved the room, taking in the leather furniture in one corner, the large bed littered with pillows and papers. The entire room was in green, black, and silver. All the furniture had a masculine flair. A silver laptop sat on the desk in one corner, and a bright white lamp glowed from one corner, illuminating the room. 

"Wow." 

"It's nothing special," Tristan replied, offhand and uncomfortable. "Let's get you some clothes."

She followed him into a long walk in closet. He grabbed a random pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. 

"You know if we just add water, and you don't wear any undergarments, this could be a fun situation." Tristan smirked. Rory rolled her eyes at him.

"Save it for _Girls Gone Wild, Dugrey.__"_

"I don't know, Mary. You may be a good addition to the video. Or we could make our own video right here." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she looked away before grabbing the clothes, choosing to ignore his last comment. She felt a faint blush rush to her cheeks, warming her face, as she looked directly into his eyes. His smirk fell away, his lips slightly parted, as he held her gaze. An electricity crackled in the air.

"Where's the bathroom?" Rory whispered nervously. 

"Down the hall, to your left. Second left, not first," he stated shakily.

Rory tried to recover. "I don't know, I might need a map for this one."

"Do you want me to show you?"

"You don't have to. But prepare your search parties if I don't come back before tomorrow." She smiled a small smile, borderline smirk.

"I don't have search parties. I'd have to you come after you myself. Then I think a thank-you kiss would in order," his eyes narrowed, and he donned the trademark smirk as he always did when they bantered.

"You should definitely invest in some search parties. That way when we common people come to your lovely home, we won't get lost on our way to the bathroom." 

Tristan rolled his eyes, imitating her own from minutes earlier. Thoughtlessly, he placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the room. Then he felt her body tense at his touch. He smiled to himself, hearing Rory's sharp intake of breath. He guided her out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom, letting his fingers flutter over her hips before he let go of her, closing the door gently behind her.

*

Lorelai stood downstairs, tapping her foot impatiently. She had wanted to leave for the past half hour, but she couldn't find Rory or Tristan anywhere. Sighing, she turned towards the bar and asked for another glass of wine. She was about to take the first sip when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hello Lorelai. You look nice."

Lorelai recognized the voice from the first syllable. Sighing, she turned slowly, seeing her mother in a midnight blue cocktail dress. A large flower adorned the bottom of the dress. She choked back her laughter.

"Thanks. Nice dress, Mom." Lorelai continued to resist the urge to snort.

"Thank you Lorelai. But perhaps you should pay more attention to where your daughter is than to my evening wear."

"Do you know exactly where she is?" she asked, then quickly added in before Emily had time to scold her. "I do, but do you? I mean, we all know you need to keep better track of your granddaughter," Lorelai amended, mock scolding Emily.

"Of course I know. I saw the whole wine-incident, and then I believe the DuGrey boy took her upstairs to get a change of clothes. At least, I would hope that's why they went upstairs. Not that anything would surprise me at this point. Escpecially after you," she added coldly.

A variety of expressions passed over Lorelai's face just then. The first, being shock and confusion that Rory was off somewhere with Tristan. The wine-incident? Then anger replaced both in Lorelai's hard blue gaze. Her mother's comment stung dully, and the reality of the situation set in. Rory. And Tristan. Upstairs. Together. But they weren't doing anything. Were they? Lorelai, confused and tired, and angry with her mother, turned and walked away, for once, at loss of comeback. 

"_Especially after you." _

* 

Rory opened the door and peered out into the hallway, a wad of blue, shimmery fabric in her arms. Uncomfortably, she tugged at the bottom of the t-shirt. Tristan was nowhere in sight. She padded silently down the carpeted hallway and back to his room. She peered in the doorway. He wasn't in the room, but the door to the closet was open. She crept into the room uncertainly, and walked closer to the closet. Just she was going in, she collided with a shirtless Tristan, who was coming out. Her dress fluttered to the floor as her eyes connected with him.

They skimmed over his golden skin, wound tightly and firmly to muscle and bone. She counted his abs, her eyes searching lower and lower, past his hipbones to the beginning of his boxers. Her mouth opened slightly, and a chill showered her with icy heat. Tristan was frozen there, unable to come up with a sarcastic remark.

His shirt was clinging to her girlish frame, accentuating her gently sloping curves. The hem stopped abruptly about an inch above the waistband of the pants, exposing a small expanse of pale, flat stomach. He repressed the urge to groan as his eyes skimmed her body hungrily.

"Sorry." Rory whispered, her eyes now focused on his bare feet.

"Hey, no big deal," he whispered back, his voice raw and uneven. He cupped her chin gently with warm fingers, forcing her eyes to his. He let go of her face as quickly as he had held it. Their eyes locked, blue to blue. She glanced at his mouth, soft and full, and he traced the curve of her lip. Backing away slowly, she tried to escape the electricity that was intoxicating her body's every cell.

But he followed, playing her with expertise, backing her up against a wall, stumbling into her. His arms were on either side of her, his shirtless chest against her clothed one. He pressed his hips into hers, and his eyes grew hazy as they met. 

Rory wasn't used to this feeling. It had never been like this with Dean. Everything in their relationship had been chaste and innocent. But with Tristan...it was hard to keep control. And now, with his body pressed hard against hers, it was lost. Slowly, he leaned in to kiss her. Her mind screamed a warning to resist, but then another voice questioned why. Then her body made the decision for her. 

Keeping her eyes on his, she leaned in, tilting her head. Soon, her lips were pressed to his, warm and soft. A spark ran up between her legs as his hips jerked suddenly and involuntarily against hers. She reciprocated his movement, pressing against him. His tongue traced the bottom of her mouth. He was playing her too expertly, and the desire that was bubbling overpowered her will to stop. 

Tristan was lost from the moment their lips met. He couldn't believe this was happening. He was kissing Rory. Mary. _Rory Gilmore. In his bedroom. He felt his hips move against hers, a movement he instantly wished he had repressed. But when her own hips jolted, he felt his regret melt away as the heat began to rush through him. In a fluttering motion, he ran his hands up and down her sides, feeling her breathe sharply between his lips. He started bringing his hands underneath the hem of her shirt. And that was when Rory snapped back to reality. _

She pulled away suddenly, finally aware of what had just happened.

"Oh God, Tristan...I...oh..." she breathed.

"Rory, look," he began nervously.

Rory shook her head. She couldn't believe she had let herself go like that. To Tristan, of all people. It had only been a week since her break-up with Dean. And this was Tristan. She couldn't love Tristan.

"I have to go."  And with one last glance, her blue eyes brimming, Rory ran from the room. 

Tristan heard her footsteps pounding softly down the hallway, and back down the stairs. She had left her shoes and delicate sandals on his chair. He grabbed them hastily as an excuse to see her one last time, but by the time he rushed back down the stairs, she was on her way out the door. Defeated, he laid her silver sandals gently on the ground, the straps shining under the dim light of the hallway. Cinderella's slipper. 

*

A/N: This was probably the shortest chapter, and maybe one of the worst, but everything will be explained and justified in the next chapter. THANK YOU to those of you who continue to support my writing and my stories. I luv ya ;) Please continue, and I'll always keep writing now matter what. The next chapter will be out soon.


	7. and I know that

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. Because if I did, the show wouldn't be half as great. And naturally, there'd still be Tristan...and Jess...and it would be a fun little triangle ;) **

**Pairing/Rating: Trory/PG-13**

**A/N: And Here IT IS! To those of you who have been waiting, I dedicate this story to you. Thank you for the continued support, both of my work and of this story particularly. I wuv yew! ;)**

**If I Fall || Chapter 7**

**...and I know that...**

*

Rory raced downstairs, grabbing Lorelai on the way through the crowd.

"Mom? Let's go," she whispered harshly, her eyes electric neon, wide and brimming with emotion that her mother tried and failed to read for one of the first times in the history of the Gilmore relationship. 

"Ror? What's the matter, hon?" her mother choked out as she was dragged to the door. She paused and looked her over before getting in the car. "And whose clothes are those?

*

"So you kissed Hottie Man, huh?" her mom said, her voice tinged with sympathy, amusement, and a touch of confusion. Rory nodded numbly, hugging the pillow that rested on her end of the couch. She slumped deeper into the cushions and squeezed her eyes shut tighty, taking a slip of her coffee, and with it, a few moments to remember the kiss itself.

Lorelai stared at her, noticing her silence. "And, explain to me," she ventured. "This is the reason why we had to leave the cocktail party? Because, everyone knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. And he's pretty hot, and you're pretty

beautiful, and you like him, and he likes you. Why is this so bad?" 

"Because," Rory mumbled, her lips pouted childishly. And suddenly, she didn't understand why she had run in the first place. Except for the simple fact that it had been Tristan Dugrey that she had kissed. Then she remembered. And with a new resolve, she knew she had to keep running. She had to prevent herself from being just another girl to him. She couldn't take that.

Her mother waited patiently for a few moments, and then wondered aloud softly, "Do you think that maybe you're scared?"

Rory shook her head. She wasn't scared. Was she? And then she knew. It wasn't the kiss that had caused her to run. The kiss in itself had been chilling, melting, satisfying in such a way that she questioned when the last time was that she had felt so whole. It was the inevitable hurt that would come after more kisses like it, and the reality that would set in-that after he left her, she would never be whole again. So...she was scared. She hated being wrong. Slightly, she nodded.

Lorelai glanced at her with understanding. "Honey, he likes you. A lot. Anyone can see that." She continued on, more lightly.

"So, you kissed the pouty, soft, irresistible lips of Hottie Man. Does this make you Hottie Girl?" Her mom prodded, half-joking, half-serious. The hidden implication of the question did not pass over Rory's head. She sighed.

"I don't know. For a little while, maybe Until Hottie Man finds an even hotter Hottie Girl." 

"Well, even if it he does, which is totally not possible, by the way, shouldn't you just take the risk? Sometimes it can be worth it. Besides, not many girls can turn him into mush. And trust me, I can tell you turn him to mush, hon. Much the same way that he turns you to mush every time he looks at you." Lorelai smirked evilly at her last comment.

"He does not," she argued, albeit weakly.

Her mom just smiled. "Yeah, you're right. I totally get affected by kisses emotionally, even when they don't turn my mind to pudding and my legs to Jello."

"I'm not emotional!" she cried suddenly.

"Mmmhmm. OK. And Bill didn't do it with Monica."

"Gross. Now that's a mental picture I don't want to repeat."

"C'mon, I saw the way you looked at Bill. Like a giant cup of cof-"

"MOM! Please! That's too dirty." Rory yelled, her face threatening to break into a smile any minute.

"Pssh. Whatever. Bill is sexy." Rory looked disgusted. "Kidding. Amazing how kisses can drain your sense of humor, o daughter of mine." 

"Anyway, before you retreat into your cloud of denial and Tristan-kisses, would you mind bestowing upon me one little detail of the kiss that started the emotion, here? Toss me a little bone. A scrap of meat..." Lorelai pause, added a "Dirty," and continued, "...something."

"It was fine."

"Fine? Puh-lease. Hottie Man kisses should be way off the charts here." 

Rory's eyes became glazed as she recalled.

"So it was that good." Her mother smiled softly. "Have a good sleep, hon. At least you've got the weekend to figure this out."

"Mmmhmm...the weekend," Rory replied absently. She just remembered the feel of his arms around her. His chest up against her, his hips-then she stopped herself. She couldn't fall for Tristan. The problem was, deep down, she knew she already had.

As she fell asleep, the brought the collar of the white t-shirt of Tristan's that she was still wearing up to her face. Breathing deeply, she let the scent of him assail her senses and retreated into a hazy world of technicolored Tristan dreams. 

* 

Tristan Dugray couldn't sleep. His room was dark and hazy, the moonlight casting dim, dancing shadows in every corner. On his bedside table, her dress and her sandals caught his eye for the umpteenth time since he had attempted sleep. It only brought back a flood of memories that overpowered every sense. 

The sweet scent of her hair, the endless ocean eyes, the tiny whimper that escaped, the way her torso shape complimented his, fitting together too perfectly. The way she bit her lips when she was nervous, the way her mouth curved soft against his, her irresistible blush that made him weaker. The way her smile melted the hardness of him and let loose a floodgate of emotions, the way she bantered with a little smirk and looked like she felt successful when she was able to think of a comeback that rendered him speechless. 

He was a goner for the one girl that had run.

"Damn it."

*

The weekend came and went too quickly. Way too quickly for Rory, anyway. But for Tristan, Monday couldn't come fast enough. He needed to see her. To talk to her. To find out exactly what had happened. Why she had run. And meanwhile, Rory knew exactly why she had run. Because she was falling too fast for something that she thought would fade too fast. 

* 

Rory spent her morning avoiding him at all costs. Seeing him would bring up something bubbling up in her skin, softening her resolve. But coming out of her history class, reading the assignments for the week, proved to be the wrong move when she turned the corner and found herself face to face with him.

Tristan felt a smile coming on as he finally saw her nose in a book like always, one that he quickly repressed when he saw that the usually filmy, cloudless layers of blue were stormed with pain and nerves.

"Rory," he began, his voice soft, a plea in the eyes that were usually guarded. "Look, I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean-"

"I gotta go," she interrupted, whispering softly, so quiet he wished he had imagined it.

She turned to walk away, but stopped when she felt his hand on her arm, pulling her back. He gave her arm a final yank, and her body crashed straight into his. Memories came flooding back, surrounding the two in a cloud of nostalgia in the middle of a crowded hallway. 

Rory shut her eyes, leaning in for just a minute as he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and dangerous against the delicate shell. "You gotta know, before you leave me, that being with you was something that I never expected to need. But I do. And I'm not willing to give you up without a fight." His voice was raw, his blunt statement leaving her will broken. He turned and left, glancing at her one last time before he rounded the corner. 

Rory just watched him walk, and then sighed, trying to forget the scent of him, the way his arm had burned her skin. But she felt a cooling patch of skin where he had touched, and all she could smell was his cologne, faint in the air around her, on her skin. 

Her reverie was soon interrupted by the angry voice of Paris Gellar, who had witnessed the whole thing.

"You don't deserve him."

"Leave me alone, Paris," she sighed dejectedly.

"You don't deserve him," she repeated, louder. Rory just stared.

"Maybe you don't see it, but you are the girl. The one he wants. I don't know why. I'm not questioning. All I know is that he looks at you in some goddamn way that makes me want to throw up. And there you are, pushing away something that everyone wants. Stop being stupid and make up your mind."

"Mind your own business, ok?" Her voice was tinged with annoyance, her delicate features twisted into a testy expression.

"I would mind my business if you actually used what little brain cells you had and just went for him."

"Why do you care?" Rory exploded.

Paris just glared for a moment. "Because if I can't have him, the least I can do for him is make sure he ends up with someone who actually cares about his feelings for them, instead of someone like you Rory, who has guys falling for you left and right, and could care less what happens to any of them."

"I care for him!" Rory yelled.

"Well, your grades are good. Why can't you seem to figure out what is supposed to happen next?"

Paris stomped off, annoyed, and Rory opened her locker, absently dumping her books into the bottom. But when she glanced down to get her books for her homework, she noticed something glimmer on the top shelf. 

She looked up and saw her sandals and her gauzy blue dress, free of stain and folded neatly on top of them. Sighing, she pulled them down. She was back where she started on Friday night, alone with thoughts of kisses and caresses from Tristan that she could never forget, no matter how much her mind willed her.

Meanwhile, a piece of paper slipped out from underneath the dress and fluttered to the bottom of her locker, never quite reaching her line of vision.

*

Short, crappy, filler chapter....the next chapter will be out soon. Sorry for the lack of updating. I luv you for supporting my story!


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